Among the messages on the phonemachine at home was one from Lillie, my salesperson at "Cronos."
The car is ready almost two weeks ahead of schedule, it said, so B and I went
in today to sign the papers. I brought in my printed-out spreadsheet and
caught an error in their favor of $59. Now onto the DMV and our insurance
company, triple-A. We've decided to coregister both cars and get on with
the unmarried merging of our monetary lives.

The weird send-off cheer they do when you
close the deal ("I crow! I crow! I crow! Cronos!" with quasi-fascist
salute arm movements) is no less bizarre when you and your forest green
lozenge of a car are the subject of the hurrah. I ended up applauding
myself, monkey fashion.

The only real message at the office was
from Doug, my insurance agent, reminding me to send a check.